


Eddsworld one shots

by Mystic_Skylar



Category: Eddsworld
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-12 20:11:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9088702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystic_Skylar/pseuds/Mystic_Skylar
Summary: Tord needs love. Let's give it to him, eh?





	1. Happy Birthday Tord!

His friends had tried to get him to come out of his room multiple times. He had refused them all. The Norski couldn't face his friend after what happened earlier. He hadn't meant to panic, he hadn't been expecting it. He could tell his friends had put effort into that surprise party. The last time someone did that for him, well.... It went pretty badly

Tord practically jumped out of his skin when a soft knock resounded.

"Tord....?" Concern laced the voice that came through the door. More guilt built up inside Tord, new tears forming in his eyes. He sighed, deciding to respond.

"Yes?" He whispered, his voice raspy and barely audible. There was a hesitation.

"Can... Can you come out? We're all worried about you... It's been almost 24 hours." He could hear the pain in his friend's voice. Guilt welled up in him and he let out a quiet sob

"Please, just let us help you. We don't know what happened, but we're worried for you." Tord swallowed the lump and sighed shakily. 

"I-I already told you Edd, I don't deserve that... After what I did, and how I hurt you..." He let out another sob, hiding his face. "I don't deserve any sort of kindness. You're already letting me live here, feeding me... Y-You don't have to treat me specially."

There was a long pause, causing the  poor Norwegian to nearly panic again. "Jævla dritt, hvordan er jeg så dum?" He muttered to himself, letting out a small gasp when Edd spoke again.

"Tord, we wanted to do this for you. You're our friend. We've forgiven you for what happened in the past. Just please come out, we're all so worried..." 

"Vel, her går ingenting..." He mumbled, standing up and opening the door, looking at the ground sheepishly.

"Tord!" He heard three voices cry, and yelped slightly when he was hugged by three different people.

"Please don't scare us like that...." He heard Edd whisper, and Tord sighed. 

"I'm sorry Edd..." He whispered back,  wrapping his arms around his friend.

"Jeg elsker deg..." His eyes widened when he heard Edd speaking Norwegian, and he smiled slightly.

"Jeg elsker deg også så mye." He said back, feeling Tom and Matt leave to give them space. "You looked that up on Google didn't you?" He asked with a smirk, causing Edd to blush.

"No!" He looked away, looking indignant. "Maybe..."

Tord giggled and kissed Edd's forehead with a small smirk. 

"Min lille engel..."


	2. Oops this is old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tomtord shit :T

The grass waves gently in the gentle, calming wind. Dandelions were littered everywhere, along with other small flowers. A rabbit hopped along the ledge, pausing for a moment, then continuing. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting an orange shadow all along the land. It seemed like the perfect day. Except for one detail. There was blood. A lot of it.

 

Tord came here quite often when he needed to change his bandages. He often just let the injury bleed, despite Patryk’s constant mothering. It’s not like he deserved any less. He had hurt many people, even his friends. He deserved every bad thing that happened to him. Today wasn’t very different from the rest. As he trudged up the hill, clutching his aching arm, he spotted a pair of sneakers at the edge of his vision. He looked up, only to jolt backwards when he recognized a familiar face.

 

Tom had his arms crossed, glaring down at him. “What the hell are you doing here?” Tom snarled, and Tord sighed tiredly.

 

“I could be asking you the same thing.” he said quietly, moving past Tom and sitting down in the normal place.

 

“I woke up early, so I decided to come up here to watch the sunrise. Didn’t expect it to be ruined by your ugly face.” Tord felt a bit of anger roil in his gut, but he forced himself to stay calm.

 

“I’m just here to change my bandages.” he said, just as quietly as before. To prove himself, he rolled up his sleeve and started unraveling the bandages, pulling out a spare roll from his hoodie pocket. Tom scoffed, not moving.

 

“Serves you right.” he said, forcing venom into his voice.

 

“I know it does. I’m a horrible person, and everything bad that happens to me. I deserve it. I don’t deserve anything good.” He continued to unravel the bandage as he spoke, letting the blood flow. He heard Tom take a step backward in surprise, then quickly regain his posture.

 

“Yeah, you don’t deserve any good.” Tord winced, but forced himself to remain nonchalant.

 

“Didn’t I already say that Thomas?” He knew using the other’s full name would hit a pipe, causing him to smile gently. Tom growled, and Tord could sense he was clenching his fists.

 

“You really haven’t changed. Not one bit.” Tord chuckled. “Tell me something I don’t know, friend.” A blow struck the back of his head.

 

“I am not your friend!” Tom exclaimed angrily. Tord started to shake, his anger starting to build.

 

“Thomas…” he sighed, forcing himself to calm down. “Please, I need to change my bandages.” He spoke quieter this time. He had yet to put the clean bandages on his arm, a pool of blood forming. “Then again, I could just let myself bleed out.” He mumbled, standing up suddenly with anger coursing through his veins. “Would you and your friends like that? If I just let myself die?” He growled, ignoring the dizziness from standing up too fast. “I know you all hate me! You’ve made it pretty damn clear!”

 

Tom clearly hadn’t been expecting this, a look of shock across his face. “Tord-“

 

“No! Don’t fucking start! You just said it yourself!” He was having trouble keeping his balance, nausea forming in his gut. “I don’t deserve anything good. I’m not your friend. I don’t have any fucking friends!” He shouted, falling to his knees. “Everyone I’ve ever known wants me dead! Just fucking go away and let me die!” He screamed, starting to hyperventilate.

 

“Tord, calm the fuck down!” Tom snapped, grabbing Tord’s arms roughly. “You’re gonna fucking hurt yourself!”

 

Tord snarled, forcing his head up to look at Tom. “As if… you would… care….” His voice grew weaker until heeventually passed out. Wether it was from blood loss or anger, he couldn’t tell.

 

 

 

He woke with a gasp, sitting up quickly. He instantly regretted it, groaning and putting his head in his hands.

 

“Easy there, commie.” His head snapped up and his eyes widened when he saw Tom sitting beside him, looking unimpressed. He looked around wildly, trying to figure out where he was.

 

“My apartment.” Tom said as if he could read Tord’s thoughts. “You passed out, so I brought you here.” Tord scoffed and rolled his eyes, laying back down.

 

“I figured that much out Thomas. I’m not as stupid as you think I am.” He muttered, hesitating for a moment. “But thank you… I guess. Why did you bring me here?” He looked at Tom pitifully. “You hate me… Why didn’t you just leave me there to die?” Tom stared at him, contemplating his answer.

 

“Maybe… Maybe I don’t hate you as much as you think…” He sighed and looked away, trying to avoid Tord’s gaze. Tord let out a weak laugh, closing his eyes.

 

“Do Edd and Matt know I’m here?” He asked quietly, and Tom sighed.

 

“Yeah. You were out for a few hours. Kinda had me worried.” Tord snorted, causing Tom to glare at him.

 

“Is there something you want to tell me, Tom?” Tord opened one eye, giving the other man a quirky grin. Tom gave him a flustered glare, causing Tord to laugh, and immediately start coughing.

 

“Alright alright, breathe commie.” He rolled his eyes at the stupid name.

 

“Is that really -cough- the only nickname you can think of for me?” Tom shrugged, then grinned evilly. “….I don’t like that look.” Tord backed away when the other approached, soon finding himself pinned against the wall.

 

“How does ‘Babe’ sound?” Tom whispered and before Tord could reply, pressed their lips together. Tord was shocked for a moment, but leaned into it after a second or two.

 

“I’m okay with babe.” Tord winked, and Tom laughed.

“Good, cause I’m sticking with it.”


	3. Tordy has the flu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ot4 I guess??

Tord was working on new plans for his army, fighting through the nausea he had been feeling since he woke up. It didn't help he also had a headache, and pretty damn bad one at that. Everyone was out at the arcade currently, so he was taking advantage of the time he so rarely had to make quick progress. However, this little bout of sickness was slowing him down as much as he hated to admit. He paused to turn away from his work and practically cough up a lung, shuddering as the stomach pain worsened. He heard the door open and close, sighing slightly and continuing his work. Matt barged in and Tord yelped in surprise, falling and groaning in pain.

 

"Todd-" he started, but Tord cut him off.

 

"Tord." He grunted, trying to stand up but finding himself unable to due to the nausea threatening to make him throw up.

 

"Right, Tord. Edd wants you to come out- Are you okay?" Matt asked, concern in his voice.

 

"Just peachy." He forced out, finally managing to stand up.

 

"Where is Edd?" He asked, panting slightly.

 

"Kitchen." Tord nodded and walked out, unable to catch his breath.

 

"Tord!" Edd ran up to the Norski, catching him off guard.

 

"Hey Edd. Matt said you wanted me, is something wrong?" Tord tilted his head, looking curious.

 

"No, I wanted to know if you could help with dinner, but you're looking a little pale. Are you feeling okay?" Tord shifted nervously, inching towards the bathroom.

 

"Just fine Edd!" He laughed nervously, his hand on the doorknob.

 

"Excuse me for a moment?" Edd nodded and Tord bolted into the bathroom, the nausea finally getting to him as he threw up, retching loud enough for what felt like the entire world to hear. He jumped when there was a hand on his back, looking up to see Edd holding a glass of water out to him. He sighed, taking the glass and sipping on it slowly.

 

“You really should take a break from your work if you’re sick, Tord.” Tord glared at Edd, standing up.

 

“I can’t. It’s too important for me to take a break just for some small sickness.” He started to walk out but was barricaded in by Tom and Matt blocking the door, watching him sternly. “Oh come on guys.” They both shook their head and he rolled his eyes, glaring right back at them. “I will shoot you guys, I swear to gOD-“ Edd cut him off, clapping a hand to his forehead, and Tord assumed he was checking his temperature.

 

“Just as I thought. You’ve got a fever. I think you’ve got the flu.” Tord rolled his eyes, pulling away from his friend. “I’ve had worse.” He used the super strength in his robot arm to his advantage, shoving Tom and Matt out of the way and bolting back to his lab, shutting and locking the door.

 

“Вы действительно должны немного отдохнуть.” Tord yelped at the voice, whirling around in surprise. “Ты болен.” Patryck and Paul smirked at him, causing him to roll his eyes in exasperation.

 

“У меня нет времени. Красная Армия нуждается в Сделанное.” He replied, turning back to his blueprints. “Я должен закончить это, или мы можем потерять все.”

 

“Тогда давайте работать над этим в то время как вы восстанавливаете.” Tord gave them a suspicious stare, then shook his head.

"Нет, это должно быть сделано мной. Просьба конкретно говорит, что 'будет разработан красного лидера.'" He paused, sighing and giving them a small smile. "Я действительно ценю вашу озабоченность." They both returned the smile, looking disappointed. 

It wasn't long before the nausea returned and he shuddered, forcing it down. He knew he should be resting, but he needed to finish this. He sneezed, sniffling so phlegm wouldn't run down his face. If he were to be completely honest, he felt horrible. His head, chest, and various muscles were aching. making it rather difficult to move. He felt horribly exhausted and the annoying cough he had acquired would not let up. No matter how much water he drank, his throat was always dry and his stomach growling due to not eating. He was hungry, but he couldn't find it in himself to eat. He would probably throw up again, because the nausea was still there. It had already caused him to throw up three times and nearly pass out from the following dizziness, much to his pilots' displeasure that he still refused to rest. 

After a long, trying period of time he finished the blueprint and sent it off, rubbing his eyes. He heard one of the other two take a breath in and he held up his hand. "I know. I'll go apologize if I can do so without throwing up on them." with that, he stood up and limped out of the lab, only to be tackled by his friends seconds later. 

"Tord! Never, worry us like that again, you hear me! I swear to god, if I catch you being like that one more time, I will personally-" Edd was cut off by Tord scrambling out from under them, and proceeding to throw up again. 

"Ugh, I know I know." He said, sitting up and putting a hand to his head. He stood up, walking into his room with a sigh and flopping on his bed. 

"Will you let us take care of you now?" Matt asked, walking in along with the other two. Tord nodded and they all cheered, stopping when they saw Tord wince in pain. He still had a pretty damn bad headache.


	4. Schizophrenia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My take on what happened before Tord met Edd and the others in Totally Mental

_Beep_

_Beep_

_Beep_

A loud, incessant beeping filled his skull. 

He was dumber then. 

He didn't know that he couldn't let them know he was up.

Letting them know he was up meant questions.

Questions meant a headache.

Headaches meant he got aggravated easier.

Aggravation meant they had the big, annoying men come in and knock him out.

It was a long cycle he was trapped in. 

There was once a time where it wasn't like this. 

He was happier then.

He had friends.

He had a social life.

That all stopped once the voices started speaking to him.

More than one time, he'd catch himself yelling in the middle of class.

Kids were scared of him. 

His friends avoided him. 

He eventually dropped out of school, spending his time locked in his room.

That was nice, for a bit.

Then the panic attacks started.

More than once a day, he'd feel like he was suffocating, pulling out his hair and sobbing.

That was when his parents sent him to the first mental hospital.

They shined a bright light at him. The pounding in his skull got worse, and he groaned. 

"Good, you're awake. Look into the light, please."

A female was speaking to him.

He forced his head up, squinting at the light.

"I'm going to tell you a series of words, and I want you to say the first word that comes into mind when you hear it."

He nodded.

"School."

"Suffocating."

"Home"

"Panic."

"Medication"

"Useless."

"Hospitals."

"Annoying."

The woman sighed and he could hear a pen scratching across paper.

_Skritch_

_Skritch_

_Scratch_

_Scratch_

He was discharged from that hospital a week later.

They knew he was a hopeless case

That was when he snapped.

A few days after getting home, his father struck a nerve

His vision turned red

_Screaming_

_Sirens_

_Yelling_

 

_Silence_

 

He woke up in a straight jacket, opening his eyes and immediately closing them again.

"Why did you do it?"

Another female.

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does. You killed them."

"I don't care."

He wasn't talking to the woman so much anymore, more talking to the voices.

"You're going to a mental hospital."

"Shut up."

He snarled the phrase, and he could imagine the woman narrowing her eyes.

"Excuse me?"

"You're wrong!"

"I'm not wrong, there are witnesses."

"I'm not talking to you."

He growled, struggling against the restraints. 

"Schizophrenia..."

The word was whispered, but he heard it clear as if it had been shouted

He was in a mental hospital the very next day.

He kept hearing the word he had learned the previous day.

A doctor came in, smiling gently at him.

"Hello there. I'm Patryck, I'll be your therapist from now on. Can you come with me?" 

He didn't want to trust this new stranger, but what choice did he have? 

He begrudgingly followed the doctor, ignoring the stares from people around him.

"What we have on file for you is schizophrenia, is that correct?"

"I don't know."

He answered truthfully, eliciting a frown from the taller man.

"Can you describe your symptoms for me?"

He didn't know where to start.

"I hear voices. I see things. They talk to me, haunt me with what I've done in the past. Remind me of what I've lost. Other people treat me rudely. They give up on me after 5 minutes because I'm so hopeless."

Patryck smiled sadly.

"I won't give up on you, I promise."

It was then he made a decision that would change his life.

"I trust you."

_Schizophrenic._

 

**_Tord was_ _schizophrenic._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this at 1 AM.


	5. Science is fun, kids!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tord fucks up while doing an experiment which results in three very worried boyfriends. In short, Tord does a stupid and knocks himself out
> 
> I DID NOT MEAN FOR THIS TO BE SO LONG, I GOT CARRIED AWAY. 
> 
> I can't write a non self-destructive Tord

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random UA where Tord just didn't blow up their house. Everything else is the same. 
> 
> UA= Universe Alteration

Music played in his ears as he worked, a small smile resting on his face. There were very few things that made Tord truly happy, and this was one of them. The Norski had been in his lab all day to make a new serum. For what, he didn't know yet. He had a general idea about its purpose, but it had yet to solidify. 

He was so intent and focused on the chemicals he was working on that he didn't notice a Benson burner turn on behind him, dangerously close to the other chemicals he was working with. That happened to be flammable. This was his first mistake. The next came when he spilled the chemical he was holding on his prosthetic, letting out a curse and turning to wipe it off. He noticed the Benson burner on and freaked out, lunging over to turn it off but misjudging the distance and knocking it along with the chemicals over.

Tord didn't even have time to react before the substances exploded, knocking him back into the wall. Pain spiked in his skull for a moment and he let out a soft groan before slumping over as he passed out. Probably has a concussion now.

In the living room, the other three had been watching a movie when they heard the explosion, all of them jumping and looked at each other. "Tord." They spoke in unison, jumping up to go check up on him. Ever since the robot incident they had known where his lab was, so it didn't take them long to find him. Tom pulled the lever and they all gasped when they saw what happened.

Tord was slumped at the wall furthest to them and the chemicals were still on fire from the explosion, along with many other things in the room. They all immediately sprung into action, not needing any directions. 

Edd darted around the fire to get to Tord, gently pulling the unconscious Norwegian into his arms and cradling his head. Matt grabbed a fire extinguisher to put out the fire and once that was done, Tom went to clean up the floor. Once the lab was completely fire and chemical free, Tom and Matt went over to Edd. They crouched down with practically identical looks of worry on their faces, glancing between the two males. 

"I'm not sure what happened, but we should be wary of the possibility of a concussion." Tom was the strongest of the group so he was handed Tord to carry to bed. The three spent the next few hours taking turns watching over Tord, caring for his wounds and checking for signs of consciousness. 

After what seemed like an eternity, the Norski stirred and let out a small groan. The three were immediately by his side, Edd holding his hand, Matt by his side, and Tom hanging out by the door. Of course Tord immediately started to sit up, but Edd and Matt were pushing him down again before he got too far. 

"What the hell-" Being a veteran, Tord immediately tried to fight them but quickly relaxed when he realized who it was. "What happened?" He looked at them with tired eyes, quirking an eyebrow when they shared worried glances.

"We're not sure," Matt spoke up, "But something in your lab exploded. We think you were blown backwards in the explosion and hit your head. Be careful, you might have a concussion." Tord nodded after Matt spoke, closing his eyes again.

"Sorry to worry you guys, I should be fine." The Norwegian sighed, lifting a hand to his head. "I've had worse..." God, Tord hated being the reason they looked so worried. After what he did, he didn't deserve any concern or pity. The man sighed, closing his eyes against the headache blossoming in his skull.

"...rd? Hey, Tord? Are you alright?" A voice cut through his thoughts, forcing him to open his eyes again. Tom had migrated from the door to his side, crouching at eye level and giving a concerned look. 

Tord nodded weakly, giving a shaky smile. "Headache." They all nodded. "I'll be fine, really guys. No need to worry about me." He sighed and closed his eyes once more, sinking into his thoughts again. 

_Why did you come back? You hurt them. All of them. They should hate you, but you've forced them to feel pity for you with your pathetic act._

_You're so pathetic. A failure. All you do is mess up and get yourself and the people you love hurt. No one truly loves you. You're a loner. You're too unlovable to deserve anything. You don't deserve the love and care Tom, Edd, and Matt are giving you. After what you did, you will never, **ever** deserve love or care. _

_Don't you remember how scared they were? How angry they were? You guilt tripped them into being here with you. You forced them to let you back in. You don't deserve the second chance they're giving you._

_Get up! You have work to do. You have responsibilities, and you're letting a concussion keep you in bed. Utterly useless._

"Tord...?" Yet again a soft voice cut through his thoughts. When the Norski realized he had started crying, he cursed and frantically tried to wipe them away. "Tord, what's wrong?" The same soft, concerned voice. After a few moments he had the courage to turn to look at his boyfriends. He was greeted with three extremely worried looks that made him flinch. 

"N-Nothing I'm fine."  _Liar!_ "You don't need to worry about me." He gave a shaky smile, trying his hardest not to sob. 

"Cut the bullshit Tord, you're crying! And out of the blue no less." It was Tom that spoke up this time. The tone had the Norwegian wincing and attempting to curl into himself. "Please, talk to us." Tom corrected his tone, worry and guilt in his voice. Tord hated that tone. He was the cause of it. 

_It's your fault they're so worried. You're such a fucking idiot. You messed up again and now they're going to kick you out. You deserve it. You deserve to be dumped in the street!_

_They should have left you to die when they found you on that hill days after the incident. No, you were so utterly pathetic that they took pity on you and brought you home. They took care of you and nursed you back to health._

_You owe them your life, and this is how you repay them?_

"I'm sorry..." Even though it was just a whisper, all three of the British men flinched at the words. Their eyes went wide and they shared a worried glance once more. They had realized what was going on in Tord's head.

Edd was the first person Tord worked up the courage to tell about the voices in his skull. The conversation had resulted in Tord crying and Edd hugging him tightly while holding back his tears

Matt was the person he told next. It was a few weeks after he had told Edd, given that conversation had nearly resulted in the poor man having a panic attack. Matt had a similar reaction to Edd, holding back his own tears as Tord failed yet again to resist crying. Matt had approached the crying Norwegian slowly as to not upset him further, careful with every move he made. As if Tord was made of glass. In a way, he was.

Tom was the last person out of the three he told. God, it took him so long to work up the courage to tell Tom. Out of all his friends, Tom was the hardest to have a heart to heart with. Tom didn't take Tord seriously, jokingly telling him to leave. The blue-clad male only figured out Tord was serious when he saw the tears on the Norski's face and his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe. Tord had a panic attack when he told Tom, only making his self hate worse. The two of them had spent nearly and hour sitting on the floor, a war raging in Tord's skull while Tom gave shaky reassurances. When Tord finally grounded himself enough, Edd and Matt were there as well. Tom had called the two of them about 45 minutes ago when Tord wouldn't calm down. Even with all three of them there, it took a whole hour to get the Norski grounded and relatively calm. They treated him like an ancient piece of China after that, keeping their voices soft and moving carefully while around him.

Tord  _hated_ it. He hated that he had caused them to be so worried and cautious around him. Even now, they were still careful around him. When they had a movie night, they always stated when they were going to move so they wouldn't startle Tord. They tapped him gently when they wanted to speak to him so their voices wouldn't startle him if he didn't know they were there. 

Tord hadn't realized he was crying audibly until he was pulled upright and three pairs of arms were around him. Oh gods, he remembered this feeling all too well. He was shaking and his chest felt tight. He was going to have a panic attack. 

_You fucking idiot! You have no reason to be panicking, snap out of it!_

The thoughts only made it worse, his breath catching in his chest and going ragged. He could hear their voices talking to him, but he couldn't make out their words. It was just a blur of noise. His head was throbbing and ears ringing as he panicked, fingers tangled in his hair. He was begging for them in blind panic, despite knowing they were already there. This was just as bad as the ones he would get in the army. When he missed them so badly it caused a panic attack, he would beg for them to be there. According to Paul and Patryk, he would apologize and beg for them profusely. 

Tord didn't even realize he was screaming until hands were around his wrists and tugging them away from his scalp. Edd's voice cut through the mayhem of thoughts in his head as the Norski's screams died off. 

"Tord! It's alright, we're right here! We've got you, you're safe, you're not going to get hurt!" Tord refused to open his eyes, not wanting to see their faces. Surely they had those looks of pity and worry that he hated so much. 

Matt's voice was next to pierce his skull. "We forgave you long ago Tord, and we love you so much! You have nothing to be afraid of, we're right here with you. We always will be!" Each word helped ground him a fraction more until he could think clearly.

"Tord, listen to us. Whatever's going on in your head, it isn't true. The voices are lying to you! They want you to believe you're as horrible as they say you are. You are not horrible! You're the most amazing, strong, and passionate person I've ever met! You care so much about everyone but yourself, don't you see? You're not selfish, you're not an attention hog! You nearly killed yourself working so that Edd, Matt, and I got what we wanted before we even asked you into the relationship. We know that it's you giving us all those gifts we mention that we want. I've seen you sneaking out in the middle of the night with heavy bags under your eyes just to buy us the things we want and need. Don't you remember what we told you? We love you so much, and not out of pity or guilt. Despite what happened, you're still the Tord we know and love. Listen to us, not what's happening in your head. I know it's hard, but we'll be here to help you every step of the way." The three of them kept reassuring Tord and calming him down until the panic attack was long gone. Tord didn't look up, hanging his head in shame. He had just panicked over nothing and caused unnecessary stress to his boyfriends. 

Almost as if he could read the Norski's thoughts, Edd spoke up. "You did nothing wrong Tord, you couldn't help it. Panic attacks aren't always controllable." Tord let out a dry laugh. 

"But I get them for the stupidest reasons... If I'm reminded of what I did out of the blue, I panic. Even the smallest bit of anxiety can cause a panic attack. I don't want to inconvenience you guys any longer, I just wish I wasn't this stupid cocktail of mental disorders..."

Tord was caught off guard when lips were pressed against his. Edd was kissing him softly yet passionately at the same time. Once the initial shock wore off, the Norwegian kissed back and relaxed into the touch. Matt was the next to capture Tord's lips, giving him a moment to breathe before pulling him in. Matt's kiss was similar to Edd's except for how Matt was more forward. Edd was almost bashful where Matt was more confident. Tom's kiss was the most intense out of all three of them. The Brit didn't hold anything back when he kissed, almost drowning Tord. All three of them had kissed the anxious Norski and were now muttering small reassurances to him. 

With a sigh and small chuckle, Tord finally returned their hug and love. "I really do have the best boyfriends in the world..."


	6. Why do I feel like this?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Writing as a vent

Not for the first time, Tord snapped awake with a start and a gasp. Looking around wildly, it took him a few moments before it processed where he was and he slumped over again. He had been in the alley for a little over a week and he could barely move. It was freezing outside and he was pretty sure he had some form of hypothermia. Every limb felt ice cold and numb, the skin turning white and even black in some places. The wounds on his right side were the most concerning, third degree burns and lacerations covering  almost every inch of that half of his body. An itch in the back of his throat, then he coughed loudly, unable to breathe and nearly throwing up. Only problem there was that he had no food in his stomach to begin with. So, here he was. Alone in an alleyway and slowly dying. 

He deserved it though, right? After that shit he pulled on his friends. Friends... Heh, could he even call them that any more? Surely they despised him after what he did. He didn't blame them. Tord hated himself more than they hated him combined. Letting out a weak sob, hot tears streamed down his freezing face, leaving prominent stains on the pale skin. 

Hold on, someone was talking. Were they talking to him? It sounded like they were talking to him through water. He could only pick up the concern and panic in their tone, his unfocused eyes making out three blobs. Green, purple, and blue. Before it clicked who was there, the Norwegian lost consciousness and slumped over. 

Needless to say, Edd panicked when his old friend passed out. They had heard him coughing violently as they were walking by and came down to investigate. They were still quite pissed at him for what he did, but even Tom felt sympathetic seeing the Norski like this. Pale, half burnt, and sick as a dog. 

"Guys, we need to get him inside. The cold isn't good for him." Tom spoke up, glancing at the other two with concern laced in his gaze. They nodded in agreement and Edd picked Tord up, his eyes widening. 

"He's way too light..." He turned and briskly started walking to their apartment building, carrying the unconscious man close to his body. He could hear the others following behind him as they slowly picked up to a run. Once they got back to Edd's apartment, all three of them immediately set to work caring for the poor guy. Edd handed him off to Tom and went to pull out the hide-a-bed from the couch, taking Tord back and laying him down once he got it fully set up. Matt had run off into the apartment and came back with an armful of comforters which were all thrown over the sick Norwegian. Tom went into the kitchen to make him some soup, mentally deeming Tord too damn skinny for his own good. 

Over the next few days, all of them took turns watching over Tord and caring for what he needed. Ever so slowly, the color returned to his skin and his face of unconscious pain relaxed into just unconsciousness. On the fourth day since they took him back in, he woke up. It wasn't graceful or slow like in the movies, his mismatched eyes flew open and he shot up with a gasp, only to start coughing violently. They all gave him his space as he coughed, watching him carefully for any signs that he needed their help. 

Once the coughing fit retreated, he sat there panting for a moment before looking up. His eyes widened and he froze in a mixture of fear and shock when he saw Edd and Matt's concerned faces looking at him. It was Tom that caused the panic attack, the void eyes seemingly boring into his soul. He could feel his heart start pounding and his breathing picked up, his eyes glossing over as the panic quickly consumed him. He wrapped his remaining arm around his torso, curling into himself as he panicked. He could hear them talking to him, but just like last time it sounded like it was through water. 

It took him a good 15 minutes before he calmed down, shaking and crying while they reassured him comfortingly. He jolted when a gentle hand fell on his good shoulder and he snapped his gaze up to meet Edd's green eyes, his own grey and red ones bloodshot and filled with tears. Edd was talking to him, he could see the other's mouth moving. He couldn't hear him through the buzzing in his head. 

The bed shifted and Tom sat in front of Tord, taking the Norski's hand cautiously. Tord's panic spiked, his breath hitching in his chest. Tom immediately retreated his hand, a look of hurt on his face. That only made Tord start to cry again, guilt and pain welling up in his chest. He lifted his arm to cover one of his ears, shaking his head violently. He could feel his mouth moving but he still couldn't hear.

He didn't even realize he was clawing at himself until he felt something warm on his hand and pulled it away to see blood on it. God, he was only hurting them more by being like this. Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he blocked out the horrible thoughts and just focused on breathing. The buzzing left his ears and he could hear them talking. Not to him, about him.

"He needs professional help!"

"Edd, he'll be arrested! He'll be sentenced to death!" 

"We can't just leave him like this! He's sick, mentally and physically! He's going to die from one of those if we don't help him!"

Tord finally gathered the courage to speak up, his voice raspy from not using it. "I'm fine..." It was barely more than a whisper but all three of them snapped their heads to look at him. "I deserve this. I did something horrible and tried to kill you guys. I lied when I said we weren't friends. I love you guys so much, I need you. But... I don't deserve you. Not after what I did. I deserve to die." Edd was in tears when Tord stopped talking, Matt was covering his mouth and holding back tears, and Tom just looked shocked.

He let out a small groan of pain, wrapping his arms around his midsection. The harpoon had gone straight through him, somehow managing to miss anything vital. He wished it didn't. "I wish that harpoon had gone through something vital, then I wouldn't be here. Still causing you guys pain you don't deserve." 

"Tord... Please, don't think like that. I know it's easier said than done, but we'll be here to help you through it all." Edd offered a warm, sad smile and opened his arms to invite Tord into a hug. Tord reluctantly scooted forward, immediately relaxing when he was engulfed by a familiar soft fabric and the scent of cola. Two more people hugged him and he broke down sobbing again, hugging Edd tightly and sobbing into the fabric. 

Sitting here with his friends hugging him as he cried, all three of them reassuring him that he'd be okay, Tord realized something.

He didn't want to die anymore. He wanted to live. If not for himself, for them. He could see that they truly cared, despite what he did.

"I'm sorry..." It was nothing more than a breath, but they heard it and smiled gently at him.

"We forgive you Tord..." They chorused and he sniffled, burying himself closer into their warmth.

He wanted to get better. He wanted to make them happy. 

He'd do anything for them.


	7. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please be warned that there are triggering topics in this chapter. If any of the listed triggers are yours, please skip this chapter
> 
> Trigger Warnings:  
> Rape Implied  
> Child Abuse  
> Homophobia  
> Transphobia  
> Suicide Attempts  
> Panic Attacks
> 
> But hey, there's OT4 here

_The house was so deadly silent it was terrifying. Not even a fly was moving, as if the house knew the smallest movement would set off hell. Downstairs, a small 13 year old boy had come out to his parents as transgender and pansexual. His mother's enraged shriek had just rang through the house and all was still. Even neighbors next door were slightly startled to hear such a noise come from the normally quiet house. Next thing he knows, the boy is thrown to the floor by his neck, a pained cry leaving his mouth._

_"Hva faen du mener det du er homofil?!" His mom screamed, his dad getting up and glaring at his son from behind his wife._

_"Du er en jævla skat." His dad growled, the boy starting to cry._

_"Mamma, pappa... Nei... vær så snill, jeg beklager!" He sobbed, trying to shield himself from their wrath. His wrists were grabbed and his arms yanked up, pain shooting through the sockets. A fist connected with his stomach and he gagged, throwing up what he had just eaten at dinner. More punches were thrown and he started to cry, shaking as his breathing sped up to hyperventilation. He was having a panic attack, worse than any he's ever had before. Insults were shouted and it all faded together until all the boy could hear was warbled shouting and his own screams of pain._

* * *

Tord jolted awake with a loud cry, immediately clapping a hand over his mouth to silence any other noises. He started to panic just how he had in the nightmare, and just barely over the ringing in his ears, he could hear voices calling and asking if he was okay. The small Norwegian's heart beat sped up until it was pounding in his ears, his eyes squeezing shut as the world began to spin underneath him. He couldn't seem to get enough oxygen, his hyperventilation definitely audible to his friends at this point. Tord thought he was going to die, the thought only fueling his panic. Suddenly a comforter was wrapped around his tiny frame, effectively gobbling him up in the fabric. His fingers curled tightly around the blanket, pulling it tighter around himself as he cried. He could hear voices talking around him but he couldn't make out what they were saying, only that they were talking about him. A pair of arms wrapped around him and rubbed his back in slow, circular motions, working the calming motion into his spine. Slowly, Tord's breathing evened out and he could hear again, and he recognized the green fabric his face was pressed into.

"....worst panic attack yet." Tom was saying, giving the Norski a concerned look. Tord still hadn't looked up from Edd's hoodie, but he obviously was significantly calmer. He was just sitting in Edd's lap, trembling and crying quietly all while Edd worked his magic, moving his hand up the small man's back and rubbing the comforting circles into his shoulder blades. 

"Edd, he needs help. This can't keep going on! He's having a panic attack a day now, he's only getting worse!" Tom's worry was very clear in his voice, sending a stab of guilt through Tord's chest. Edd shifted slightly and Tord tightened his grip, not wanting the only thing grounding him to leave. 

"Please don't leave me..." He whispered, more tears rolling down his face. Edd frowned and moved back, pulling Tord even closer to his chest. 

"I'm not going anywhere Tord...." He reassured the small Norski, sympathy gripping his chest as he felt the tiny frame still trembling. "We're gonna help you, okay? We'll make sure you're okay." Tord nodded and tried to relax in Edd's hold, too tired to resist the care. Matt left to get Tord a cup of tea, making sure to add extra sugar how Tord liked it. Tom ran to his room and grabbed Tomee Bear, pushing the plushie into Tord's arms. The Norwegian finally looked up and gave Tom a grateful smile, sniffling a little bit and wiping away the remaining tears on his face. 

"Thank you..." He mumbled, sighing and laying his head back on the Edd's chest. Edd responded by moving one of his hands to run his fingers through Tord's hair, knowing how the little guy liked that. Tom sat down next to them and laid one of his hands where Edd's had been before moving to the Norski's hair, returning the comforting warmth that had been there before.

 Matt returned with the tea a few moments later, setting it down on the bedside table and sitting in the free space next to Tord, wrapping an arm around the small male's waist. "Alright?" He asked gently, rubbing Tord's hip slowly. Tord smiled and nodded, sighing happily and allowing the three of them to care for him. "Was it the same nightmare?" Matt spoke up again, grabbing the Norski's attention.

"Yeah...  The same one." Tord closed his eyes, shivering as an image flashed behind his eyelids. "I remember... I didn't tell you guys this, but that was the first time I tried to kill myself." Edd gasped and Tom flinched, a few tears gathering in Tord's eyes. "I-I felt so horrible and I was in so much pain I just wanted it to end." Edd shushed the small man quietly, adjusting their position so all four of them were cuddling on the bed. Edd and Tom held him close from both sides and Matt wrapped an arm around him and Edd, Tord's small smile returning to his face.

"Get some rest Tord, we'll be right here with you." Tom's voice whispered in his ear and Tord hummed before falling back asleep, exhausted from his panic attack.

* * *

_The door slammed open, jolting Tord awake. He was sixteen now and his parents' abuse had not let up in any way, the tiny boy's depression getting worse. His father was obviously drunk with the way he stumbled and leaned on his son's door. "_

_Deeeg er en jævla... jævla faaggooot!" He slurred, glaring in Tord's direction. The Norski deflated and tears welled up in his eyes. "_

_Beklager pappa..." He mumbled, wrapping his arms around himself._

_"Hva faen gjorde du bare si?!" His father roared, a scream passing Tord's lips from the fear. The drunk man stumbled to Tord and slammed him into the wall, starting to roughly rip off his clothes. Tord's eyes widened when he realized his father's intentions and he started to struggle, panic attack swallowing him._

_"Nei, nei!" He screamed, earning a punch to the stomach. He coughed, curling around his abdomen while sobbing. "Pappa... Vær så snill... Nei..." He begged, his struggles weakening._

* * *

 

"No!" For the second time that night, Tord jolted awake with a scream. His eyes were wide and his breathing uneven, looking around the room wildly to figure out where he was. The three bodies next to him jolted awake when he screamed and immediately set to preventing the oncoming panic attack. With his boyfriends' help, Tord was able to calm down before he had a panic attack. "I'm sorry..." He whispered, arms wrapping around him and pulling the trembling frame close to their owner's chest.

"Shh, Tord it's okay. You can't help the nightmares." Edd soothed while Tom wrapped the blanket around all four of them and squeezed Tord close to his chest as well. "We've got you, your parents are in Norway. They can't hurt you. We won't let them." Matt and Tom agreed with a determined nod, Tord relaxing into their grips. 

"Okay... Okay." He sighed and closed his eyes again, thankfully sinking into a dreamless sleep this time. He was going to be okay.


	8. But that was when I ruled the world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration by Coldplay
> 
> Song: Viva La Vida by Coldplay

_I used to rule the world_  
_Seas would rise when I gave the word_  
_Now in the morning I sleep alone_  
_Sweep the streets I used to own_

Papers blew aimlessly across the barren wasteland, the click of boots the only thing breaking the silence. A man walked down the middle of the road, observing the destruction that had befallen this place. It was one of many. He suppressed a sigh, turning to look in the broken window of an abandoned shop. His face hung on a wanted poster still stubbornly clinging to the cracked glass. The man that reflected back in the window was not the same as the one on the poster. The man in the poster was confident and smug, determined to rule the world with an iron fist. He was ruggedly handsome, a strong jaw accenting the sharp cheekbones. His shoulders were squared and his head held high, proud of who he was and what he'd accomplished. The man standing at the window was the exact opposite. He was a broken soul, a shattered spirit floating in the wind. He still had the same jaw and cheekbones as before, but he had lost so much weight that he just looked sickly, almost dead. His mismatched eyes could tell a story, a story full of pain and regret. 

_I used to roll the dice_  
_Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes_  
_Listened as the crowd would sing_  
_Now the old king is dead long live the king_  
_One minute I held the key_  
_Next the walls were closed on me_  
_And I discovered that my castles stand_  
_Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand_

A tear of bittersweet memories rolled down his cheek, staining his ghoulishly pale skin. This was no leader, this wasn't the arrogant man he had been before. This was a man full of regret for what he had done, to the world and his family. He wiped away the tear, turning away from the store and walking on. It was a lonely world to be living in. He was the only survivor of the nuclear blast he had foolishly set off in his power-hungry craze. God, how he regretted that. He'd lost everything that day. His army, his friends, his family, his happiness. 

_I hear Jerusalem bells a-ringing_  
_Roman cavalry choirs are singing_  
_Be my mirror, my sword and shield_  
_My missionaries in a foreign field_  
_For some reason I can't explain_  
_Once you'd gone there was never_  
_Never an honest word_  
_And that was when I ruled the world_

It wasn't always like this for him. There was a time when he almost ruled the world. He had been so close... If only he hadn't been so stupid. There was a time, way back when, when this broken shell of a man was happy. He had friends, he had a family, he had a life. He could talk and joke with his two second-in-command pilots, not a care in the world. They would always tease him for how thick his accent was even though theirs were no better. Nowadays, the man didn't speak at all. He couldn't remember the last time he had talked or laughed, it had been such a long time.

_It was a wicked and wild wind_  
_Blew down the doors to let me in_  
_Shattered windows and the sound of drums_  
_People couldn't believe what I'd become_  
_Revolutionaries wait_  
_For my head on a silver plate_  
_Just a puppet on a lonely string_  
_Oh who would ever want to be king?_

He walked down the streets of the town he used to call home, the once colorful and vibrant buildings now destroyed and covered in a layer of soot and dust. He looked at his prosthetic as he walked, another repercussion of his selfish actions. He'd been rushed back to the base for an emergency amputation of his arm once his soldiers found him dying of an infection in an alley. He'd woken up in the hospital beds, confused and disoriented. One of the pilots had been next to him, gently pressing a cool washcloth to his forehead and murmuring soothing words. Once Tord had recovered, he'd explained that the Norsk had been unconscious for a week after they had found him, god knows how long before. 

_I hear Jerusalem bells a-ringing_  
_Roman cavalry choirs are singing_  
_Be my mirror, my sword and shield_  
_My missionaries in a foreign field_  
_For some reason I can't explain_  
_I know St Peter won't call my name_  
_Never an honest word_  
_But that was when I ruled the world_

After that the depression and anxiety set in. He couldn't get a good night's sleep without being jolted awake by a night terror, filled with flashing lights, fire, and the cool metal of a harpoon. Falling, falling, falling... He was falling into the darkness and couldn't see to get himself out. He started to have panic attacks, some of which he'd come out of finding his two pilots giving him worried looks. A blanket was often draped over him, providing a link to reality that he so desperately needed during those times. He hated how he'd find himself unable to think or breathe, eyes staring at him from all around. They'd mock him for his mistakes and his sins, crawling up his spine and embedding themselves in his skull.

_Oh oh oh oh ohh oh_

He couldn't be happy. He couldn't get rid of the ringing voices of mocking laughter in his head, driving him further and further into the pitch blackness. He'd stopped walking, shaking and hugging himself tightly as he cried. His trip into the past had surfaced the fears he'd fought so hard to bury all those years ago, sending him into a panic attack. His ears were ringing and he fell to his knees, his breathing getting uneven. He was having a panic attack. He couldn't see, he couldn't breathe, he was going to die, just like all the people he killed- He let out a sob and started to hyperventilate, panic consuming him. He was useless, a failure, a waste of space... He was wasting space, space he needed to breathe, space that was collapsing in on him and sending painful shocks up and down his body.

_Hear Jerusalem bells a-ringing_  
_Roman cavalry choirs are singing_  
_Be my mirror, my sword and shield_  
_My missionaries in a foreign field_  
_For some reason I can't explain_  
_I know St Peter won't call my name_  
_Never an honest word_  
_But that was when I ruled the world_

He wasn't always this broken. He used to be strong, he used to be stable. 

_But that was when he ruled the world_


	9. Tom really knows how to talk...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ....people out of panic attacks. 
> 
> Also wow surprisingly not in Tord's POV? Who knew miracles could happen

As much as Tord tried to hide it, his boyfriends could always tell when he was having a bad day with his anxiety. The first time Tom even saw the small commie in the morning, he knew it was one of those days again. Tord looked like he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep all night and he came down the stairs in an oversized t-shirt, his boxers, and he'd wrapped a comforter around his shoulders for extra warmth. Tom knew what was going on from the first second, when Tord's hands curled into balls and he started to shake. Edd, who was on the other side of Tord, felt him shaking and pulled back to look at him with a worried gaze. Matt had almost dozed off before Edd moved, letting out a confused hum before he noticed Tord shaking. 

Tom decided not to waste any more time when Tord's breathing started to shake, wrapping his arms around the Norwegian and pulling him close. 

"Tord, I know you're having a bad day. I'm going to try and keep you grounded, can you try to stay with me?" Tord gave an almost invisible nod and pressed his face further into Tom's chest.

"I want you to just think of the numbers I say, okay? Just think of these random numbers. Three. Nine. Fifteen. Two hundred sixty four. Three hundred fifteen." Tom faltered when he noticed that method wasn't working and Tord started to hyperventilate. He was shaking badly now, Tom had to change his tactic. 

"You're hyperventilating. Count to four with me, okay? We're gonna take deep breaths each time we get to four." Again Tord nodded and they counted out loud together, mostly Tom for the first few minutes. Eventually Tord's voice got stronger until he could breathe normally. 

"Good job Tord, you're not hyperventilating anymore. Do you need me to talk or do you just want me to hold you?" Tom asked gently, rubbing his small boyfriend's back slowly. 

"No keep talking please-" Tord sounded panicked but quickly shut his mouth and his words faded into a whine. 

"It's okay Tord, I'll keep talking if you need me to. I need you to look around the room for me." Tord slowly pulled his face away from Tom's chest and opened his eyes, fat tears that had been building while he was panicking sliding down his cheeks. 

"Aw, you poor thing.. Don't worry, crying isn'y anything to be ashamed about. Now, I want you to look around and choose any random five items." Tord nodded and did as such, Tom gently praising him for doing well. "Great job! Those are five things you can see. Now, I want you to pick out four things you can touch, three things you can smell, two things you can hear, and one thing you taste. What are they?" Tord went through the list a bit slowly, but Tom was patient and encouraged him as he listed off the things Tom asked him to choose. The Brit gave a small small and rubbed Tord's back once more, moving his hands to the Norski's shoulders instead. "Hey buddy, feeling better?" He asked in a soft voice, his own black eyes meeting Tord's mismatched eyes. The commie giggled and nodded, lifting a hand to wipe away the tears still perched on his cheekbones. 

"Yeah, a lot better. Thank you." He leaned up and gave Tom a short but sweet kiss, laying back against his chest to soon fall asleep. Edd and Matt scooted back in and they all slept together happily, holding their precious little commie

**Author's Note:**

> I have trouble making things that are interesting and long lasting


End file.
